
Class J2&±20± 
Book aL_L_ 



Copyright N°. 



904 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



7 + 
■7: 



Out to Old Aunt Mary's 



Out to 
Old Aunt Mary's 

By 

James Whitcomb Riley 



Drawings by 

Howard Chandler Christy 

Decorations by 
Margaret Armstrong 



The Bobbs-Merrill Company 
Indianapolis 



Copyright, 1887, 1898, 1904 
By 

James Whitcomb Riley 

Copyright, 1904 
The Bobbs- Merrill Company 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

DEC 2 1904 

Copyrurnt Entry 

CLASS c*s XXc, N01 
COPY S. 






PRESS OF 

BRAUNWORTH & CO. 

BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



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ITo U who have journeyed the wide world through 
Knowing the Old IV or Id as the New, — 
Cruise or pilgrimage or shrine, 
Found you ever so all-divine 
A haven as first was yours a?id mine 
Out to old Aunt Mary s f 






Out to Old Aunt Mary's 







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The scent of the cherry-blossoms blown 
After us, in the roadway lone 



"Me and you" — And the morning fair, 
With the dewdrops twinkling everywhere; 
The scent of the cherrv-blossoms blown 
After us, in the roadway lone, 
Our capering shadows onward thrown — 
Out to old Aunt Mary's! 



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Out by the barn-lot and down the lane 
We patter along in the dust again 



It all comes back so clear to-day! 

Though I am as bald as you are gray, — 
Out by the barn-lot and down the lane 
We patter along in the dust again, 
As light as the tips of the drops of the rain,. 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 



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Loitering, awed, o'er pool and shoal 
Out to old Aunt Mary's, 



The few last houses of the town; 

Then on, up the high creek-bluffs and down; 
Past the squat tollgate, with its well-sweep pole; 
The bridge, and "The old 'Babtizin'-hole' ", 
Loitering, awed, o'er pool and shoal 
Out to old Aunt Mary's, 







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Where the hammering "red-heads" 
hopped awry 







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We cross the pasture, and through the wood, 
Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood 
Where the hammering "red-heads" 

hopped awry, 
And the buzzard "raised" in the "clearing"-sky 
And lolled and circled, as we went by 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 




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Or, stayed by the glint of the redbird's wings 
Or the glitter of song that the bluebird sings 



Or, stayed by the glint of the redbird's wings f 
Or the glitter of song that the bluebird sings, 
All hushed we feign to strike strange trails, 
As the "big braves 1 ' do in the Indian tales,, 
Till again our real quest lags and fails — 
Out to old Aunt Mary's 




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And the woodland echoes with yells of mirth 
That make old war-whoops of minor worth! 
Where such heroes of war as we? — 
With bows and arrows of fantasy, 
Chasing each other from tree to tree 
Out to old Aunt Mary's! 




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Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 



And then in the dust of the ^oad again; 

And the teams we met, and the countrymen; 
And the long highway, with sunshine spread 
As thick as butter on country bread, 
Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead 
Out to old Aunt Mary's 




Where dwelt our Saint in her simple cot- 
Out to old Aunt Mary's 



For only, now, at the road's next bend 
To the right we could make out the gable-end 
Of the fine old Huston homestead — not 
Haifa mile from the sacred spot 
Where dwelt our Saint in her simple cot — 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 










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And wasn't it good for a boy to be 
Out to old Aunt Mary's 



Why, I see her now in the open door 
Where the little gourds grew up the sides and o'er 
The clapboard roof! — And her face — ah, me 1 
Wasn't it good for a boy to see — 
And wasn't it good for a boy to be 
Out to old Aunt Mary's? — 










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The jelly — the jam and the marmalade, 

And the cherry- and quince-" preserves" she made 



The jelly — the jam and the marmalade, 
And the cherry- and quince^'preserves" she made! 
And the sweet-sour pickles of peach and pear, 
With cinnamon in 'em, and all things rare! — 
And the more we ate was the more to spare, 
Out to old Aunt Mary's! 










Just for the visiting children's sake 
Out to old Aunt Mary's 



Ah! was there, ever, so kind a face 
And gentle as hers, or such a grace 
Of welcoming, as she cut the cake 
Or the juicy pies that she joyed to make 
Just for the visiting children's sake — 
Out to old Ar >t Mary's. 






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The honey, too, in its amber comb 
One only finds in an old farm-home 



The honey, too, in its amber comb 
One only finds in an old farm-home; 

And the coffee, fragrant and sweet, and ho! 
So hot that we gloried to drink it so, 
With spangles of tears in our eyes, you know — - 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 



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Or was it the grove, with its leafy breeze, 
Or the dim hay-mow, with its fragrancies 









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And the romps we took, in our glad unrest! — 
Was it the lawn that we loved the best, 

With its swooping swing in the locust trees, 
Or was it the grove, with its leafy breeze, 
Or the dim hay-mow, with its fragrancies — 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 



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Laughed all day as it slowly poured 
Over the dam by the old mill-ford 










Far fields, bottom-lands, creek-banks — all, 
We ranged at will. — Where the waterfall 
Laughed all day as it slowly poured 
Over the dam by the old mill-ford, 
While the tail-race writhed, 
and the mill-wheel roared— 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 










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The talks on the back-porch, in the low 
Slanting sun and the evening glow 




But home, with Aunty in nearer call, 
That was the best place, after all ! — 

The talks on the back-porch, in the low 
Slanting sun and the evening glow, 
With the voice of counsel that touched us so, 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 








And then, in the garden — near the side 
Where the bee-hives were and the path was wide 



And then, in the garden — near the side 
Where the bee-hives were and the path was wide,- 
The apple-house — like a fairy cell — 
With the little square door we knew so well, 
And the wealth inside 

but our tongues could tell — 
Out to old Aunt Mary's. 











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Where the swinging shelves 

and the crocks were kept, 
Where the cream in a golden languor slept 



And the old spring-house, in the cool green gloom 
Of the willow trees, — and the cooler room 
Where che swinging shelves 

and the crocks were kept, 
Where the cream in a golden languor slept, 
While the waters gurgled and laughed 
and wept — 

Out to old Aunt Mary's. 



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Memory now is on her knees 
Out to old Aunt Mary 




And as many a time have you and I — 
Barefoot boys in the days gone by- 
Knelt, and in tremulous ecstasies 
Dipped our lips into sweets like these,- 
Memory now is on her knees 

Out to old Aunt Mary's. — 



**N* 



And all is well 

Out to old Aunt Mary's 














For, O my brother so far away, 
This is to tell you — she waits to-day 
To welcome us: — Aunt Mary fell 
Asleep this morning, whispering, "Tell 

The beys to come" And all is well 

Out to old Aunt Mary's. 



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